


melancholy

by soliloquising



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: A3! Act 3 Spoilers, Character Study, Grief/Mourning, Past Character Death, Stream of Consciousness, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29478969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soliloquising/pseuds/soliloquising
Summary: "the melancholy of dying in this worldand living without a damned reason"- Fito Paez, Mariposa Tecknicolor--Omi thinks about Nachi's death
Relationships: Fushimi Omi & Nachi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	melancholy

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to explore Omi's character a little bit, his relationship with grief and survivor's guilt (which i'm sure he has), and how those affect him in his day to day life
> 
> \--
> 
> a huge thanks to [Catrione](https://twitter.com/catrione776) and [Vagarius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vagarius/pseuds/vagarius) for proofreading this for me, i love you both <3

It should have been a normal morning, just like any other. 

Omi would have woken up early, careful not to wake up Taichi, and made his way towards the kitchen, ready to prepare breakfast for the battalion of men that made up the Mankai Company. If he had been in a particularly good mood, he would have hummed along to some song as he made breakfast, not minding the fact that he couldn’t hit some notes; he would have given a warm greeting to any person who passed in front of the kitchen at that hour, be it Tasuku on his way back from a morning run, Tsuzuru after pulling another all-nighter, Sakyo and Izumi checking how much money they had spent -looking comfortable despite how little sleep they probably got- or the random company member who, for some reason, happened to be wandering around.

It had been this way since before he joined the company. Ever since Omi could remember, he had woken up early, made breakfast, made sure everyone was in good shape for the day, and then proceeded to get ready for the day himself.

It should have been a normal morning. But the anniversary of Nachi’s death had come and gone, and no matter how much Omi tried, he couldn’t shake away the thoughts and feelings that seemed to cling to him like leeches, draining him of any energy or motivation to do anything.

He still woke up early, careful not to wake up Taichi, and made his way towards the kitchen to make breakfast for the rest of the company. He had to, there was no way he could slack off when twenty-five people depended on him to have a good meal to get them through their days. But his mind wasn’t into what he was doing. His heart wasn’t into it. Was it possible for the others to taste the difference in the food he was making? Omi hoped not, he couldn’t burden anyone with his issues, they depended on him. He tried to shoo the thought away as he began plating the first round of breakfast for the early risers.

All of his cells seemed to be begging for him to go back to bed. The most morbid part of him wished he could sink into his bed and disappear between his sheets, maybe for an indeterminate amount of time. Maybe forever. Maybe that would lessen the weight he carried within himself, the weight of Nachi’s death.

_ It should have been him. _

There it was. Omi sighed as the little voice that annoyed him ever since that day showed up. He should have expected that. Now he was sure this wouldn’t be the last time the thought floated around his head that day.

_ It should have been him. _ He didn’t disagree. Nachi shouldn’t have died, he’d do anything to bring him back, even if it meant switching places.

He was past living his life aimlessly. He was past having no direction or ambitions. He had made Nachi’s dreams into his own, and it was now something he treasured, not only as a connection he had with his best friend, even after death, but as an ambition for himself, one that had given him the opportunity he needed to put his life on track. Or at least that’s what he told himself. He clung to the thought as if letting go would send him deeper into the abyss he was already falling into.

_It should have been him._ _It had been Nachi’s dream to begin with._ Omi turned off the stove and went to the bathroom, in hopes that splashing his face with water would help, even in the slightest.

\--

Water did not help. Not really. Which left Omi leaning against the mirror, his eyes shut tight as if that would stop the thoughts from coming.

Nachi was dead and it was his fault. He could have told him not to go on that ride. He could have chosen another path. He could have done so many things to avoid his death and he had done none of them.

And after that? After his death? Omi continued to be a fuck-up. He wandered through his life with no goal, he only took care of his family out of habit, he went through his days like a zombie, a mere spectator of life, as if he had been the one who died.

_ It should have been him. _ But it hadn’t been. He was alive, Nachi wasn’t. And there he was, wasting his life away, as if Nachi had taken any and all reason to live along with him. He couldn’t even honour his friend’s life properly for years. 

Nothing he did could bring Nachi back to life, that he knew. The least he could do was keep his memory alive, honour what he would have wanted. 

But he couldn’t do that either. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

Nachi had died, Omi had not. It should have been the other way. Omi was not good enough to keep on living for the two of them.

He hadn’t been good enough when he went through life like a dead man walking; he hadn’t been good enough when he couldn’t bring himself to pay respect properly for so long; he hadn’t been good enough when he took Nachi’s place and fulfilled his dream himself.

Acting was now his dream, his passion and motivator. But it was a stolen one, one he didn’t deserve. Even if Izumi said it could be a shared dream now. 

Omi loved acting now, he loved being on stage. Not only did it allow him to have fun playing his roles, but it reminded him that he had a family in the company, a family backing him up and inspiring him; it reminded him that he still had the support of some of his old friends, some of the Wolves, another family of his, supporting him from the audience; most importantly, it was a way for him to connect with Nachi, to keep his dream alive, and to live for both of them.

He didn’t deserve any of that. Not him, not the one that drove his best friend to his death. He simply wasn’t good enough to deserve any of that.

He still had it, though. And that’s why he needed to go back to the kitchen, go back to cooking, and make sure no one was hungry. He was not good enough for any of the things he had, but he sure as hell could try to be deserving of them. He’d do anything if it meant being worthy of carrying Nachi’s memory with him.

\--

It had been a mistake to go to the bathroom. In the couple minutes Omi spent there, feeling bad about himself and wallowing in self-pity, the dining room had started to fill out with students and the couple adults who had to leave early for work. Guilt weighed him down as he made his way back to his spot in front of the stove. 

“Breakfast will be ready in no time.” His voice sounded kilometers away, but then again, the sound of chatter around the room did too, like something in his mind had enveloped him in a bubble away from everything else. Omi hoped he was the only one who noticed any oddity in the scene.

Breakfast went by without any other incident. At least from what Omi had noticed from inside the bubble, which had now started to take over his mind, numbing it and leaving him to wash the dishes on auto-pilot.

As he scrubbed the dishes, Omi tried to regain control over himself, to recall all the good memories he had made since he joined Mankai. Looking for a reason, for something he could have possibly done to deserve the life he had. Hell, to deserve being alive at all. To be living the dream of a dead man as some twisted way to tell himself that it was okay that his best friend had died all those years ago.

Deep down, he knew he wasn’t good enough to fill Nachi’s shoes, to live  _ his _ dream. He would never be good enough, no matter how much he tried.

Even when he made sure to feed all the people he lived with, even when he did his best to take care of everyone around him, even when he fussed over the younger members of the company to the point of deserving the title of “Mom”, Omi knew he would never be as good as Nachi. Nachi, whose excitement and passion moved an entire gang; who could make the days seem brighter just by existing next to you; who deserved to have lived, to fulfill his dream, to grow up through his dream, and maybe grow old living a fulfilling life, to have the families Omi now had.

There was nothing Omi could do about Nachi being dead. Nothing but try to be good enough in his name.

He missed him. He missed his best friend, his right hand man, his confidante,  _ his Nachi _ .

Just like he couldn’t fill his shoes as an actor, no one, not even an entire theatre company, could fill the Nachi-shaped void in his chest. The constant cold, the hole that threatened to swallow him whole ever since that day.

Trembling, Omi sat down in the lounge. It wasn’t fair. Thoughts bombarded his brain as he tried to regulate his breathing, to stop shaking. He had to be strong for the rest, a reliable “Mom”, someone who was always there to help others out. There was no time for him to break down. Nachi was the only one who could see him in a state of weakness like that.

He no longer felt like he had the right to break down.

Maybe he could visit his grave and pretend his friend was there, listening to him, comforting him as he let it all out-

“OMI-SAN!” 

-but not now. 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Omi stood up and made his way to room 105. He had to be there for his roommate now, to help with whatever he needed. He had to try to be good enough, to help the others, to deserve this life he had. His problems could always wait another day.

**Author's Note:**

> this was a bit more personal (?) than the rest of the fics i've published here? so i hope you liked it
> 
> as shown in the summary, it was inspired by some lines from [Mariposa Tecknicolor](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GVCNhiVY0ls), you should give it a listen ([here's](https://youtu.be/53fqRuRI0qI) a slower, live version)  
> [here's](https://lyricstranslate.com/en/mariposa-tecknicolor-technicolor-butterfly.html) a translation of the full lyrics


End file.
